


In A Bind

by anythingbutplatonic



Series: FTM!Blaine 'Verse [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, Trans!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is having trouble with an uncooperative binder, so Kurt helps him out. Fluff and sweetness ensues. FtM!Blaine.</p><p>Warnings: Brief allusions to crossdressing and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it allusion to gender dysphoria.  </p><p>Originally posted on Tumblr March 26th 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Bind

Kurt had been sitting cross-legged on Blaine’s bed, thumbing through the latest issue of  _Vogue_  that had been on his nightstand (he hadn’t the money right now to get his own copy and anyway, Blaine always wrote things in the margins and left little Post-Its with notes next to what he thought Kurt would like, which made getting through it much easier because he could always skip to the best parts first without flicking through pages and pages of advertisements) when Blaine stomped out of his bathroom, wearing only his pants, looking annoyed and vaguely pissed off.He stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, frowning. 

Kurt looked up. “What’s wrong?” He set  _Vogue_  aside. “Did you change your mind about our date? Because you know, we don’t have to go out, we can in, watch a movie, maybe make out a little…?” He deliberately let the last words trail off, posing a question, a raised eyebrow and a lowered voice to suggest that he was  _totally_  up for  _those_  kind of activities. Because oh, he  _so_  was, and most of all with Blaine.

But Blaine’s expression didn’t change. He chewed his lip for a moment, rocking on the balls of his bare feet. Then, he said, miserably, “My binder won’t stay up.”

 

Kurt looked down, and suddenly he understood the problem. The binder Blaine normally wore around his midsection to keep his chest flat was - well, not doing what it supposed to. 

Three months into their friendship, Blaine had plucked up the courage to tell Kurt that he wasn’t like the other boys who went to Dalton - that he wasn’t like Kurt. He’d told him he was trans, that he used to be a girl but that he was now a boy, and that one of the reasons why he’d transferred to Dalton in the first place was because it was an all-boys’ school, a place where he could feel like himself and actually  _be_  himself.

It had been an…adjustment. Kurt’s own experience of having to constantly defend his masculinity to people who called him “sissy” and said he was much too feminine to be a  _real_  guy made him uneasy, at first. Not in a bad way, just…in a different way. It was something he’d had to get used to. But it certainly didn’t change the way he felt about Blaine as a friend - and as something more.

He didn’t see Blaine as trans. He just saw Blaine as Blaine.

“Let me take a look,” Kurt said, springing off the bed to better examine his boyfriend’s predicament. He looked him up and down while Blaine pouted like a kicked puppy, obviously irritated and in need of something to right the situation. Kurt moved into fashionista-cum-stylist mode. “Well, I see your problem. You’ve wrapped it all wrong, so the fabric isn’t holding together properly. Is it new?”

“Um, yeah,” Blaine said, shifting from foot to foot. “My mom finally made me get rid of the old one I used to use, so I had to get another one.” Kurt hummed and nodded in understanding. He extended his hands as if to touch, then thought better of it. Blaine’s body was his personal space. Over-the-clothes touching didn’t bother him - in fact, more than once, he had encouraged it enthusiastically - but they had never discussed skin-t-skin contact and since it wasn’t really an issue between them, Kurt had never thought to ask what was appropriate and what wasn’t.

“Can I-?” he made a vague gesture in Blaine’s direction. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, if you, you know, don’t want me - I mean, your body is your own and I’ll understand if you don’t want me to -” He was babbling, and he knew it. He flushed pink and let his hands drop to his sides.

Blaine ducked his head, chuckling, then looked up at Kurt with pink cheeks and a soft smile. “It’s okay. Go ahead. I feel comfortable with you. Like - like I don’t have to hide. Besides, you’re the one with the knowledge here,” he tugged at a limp edge of the fabric where it hung off his chest. “I don’t exactly know what I’m doing. Which is ironic, really, considering I’ve been doing this for years now, but I guess I’m still learning myself.”

“It’s a process,” Kurt said, “there’s no right or wrong way to do it.” Blaine nodded in concurrence. “But first, let me help you out.” He steered Blaine to stand in front of the full-length mirror propped up against the only part of the wall in his room that wasn’t taken up by bookshelves or his closet or other random paraphernalia. He looked at Blaine, silently asking him for permission. Blaine gave it. Carefully, slowly, he unwrapped Blaine’s binder, gathering the material in his hands as he went so as not to pull the fabric too much, as that would cause the edges to fray. And there was nothing worse than frayed fabric. It was simply tacky and unfashionable, except when worn in an ironic way.

He noticed the way that Blaine stiffened a little once the whole thing was off, the way he avoided looking directly at his own reflection before him in the mirror. Sensing Blaine’s discomfort, which made his own heart ache, he bent forward to press a single, gentle kiss to the back of his neck, murmuring in his ear, “It’s okay. I know what I’m doing. I’ve got you.” In the mirror, he saw Blaine give him a small smile. 

As he re-wrapped the binder (the right way), he talked, mainly as a way to distract Blaine. “You know, these are made with really great fabric. Strong, and elasticated, and quite easy to clean, too. But I suppose that’s the point. You need them to do their job and last a long time.”

“You’ve been doing your research.” Blaine pointed out, looking pleased. 

“Of course I have,” Kurt replied, “I always want to know how best to make you feel comfortable, you know that. And the more I know, the more I can help you. Though I admit that this particular aspect of things I know by experience rather than Internet research. My wardrobe contains more bondage clothing than I care to admit, and I’ve worn corsets in my time. The logistics are similar enough, even if the purpose isn’t. Arms up.” Kurt tapped the side of Blaine’s chest to signal the instruction, and Blaine responded in kind, lifting his arms so that Kurt could get the binder underneath and round the back. He had to forcibly prevent himself from letting his gaze follow the smooth muscles in Blaine’s shoulders and the tops of his arms, focusing on the task in hand. 

“Do you have a safety pin?” Kurt asked when he was almost done. “I need to pin this flat. And don’t worry, I won’t stab you with it.”

“In the front pocket of my pants,” Blaine said. Kurt must have looked surprised, because he then added, “I keep one in there for emergencies. Emergencies like this one, actually.”

“You are so weird,” Kurt laughed, but he took the safety pin from his pocket anyway and carefully pinned the fabric in place. “And  _voila._ Sir, you are wrapped and ready to go.”

“Oh my god, thank you!” Blaine exclaimed. He moved around experimentally, even did a few Jumping Jacks. “Hey, it stays perfectly in place!”

“I told you.” Kurt said. “My expertise in the world of fashion is incomparable. Now go put your shirt on and we’ll go somewhere nice.  _Not_  Breadstix. I have somewhere else in mind.”

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

“ _Shirt_ , Blaine. And I’m not telling you where it is - it’s a surprise.”

“I do like surprises.”

“I know you do.” Kurt reached forward to kiss Blaine, warm and slow and soft, “But I still think ‘No shirt, no shoes, no service’ applies in Ohio.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Blaine insisted, starting to move in the direction of the bathroom. 

“And don’t touch my handiwork!” Kurt called after him. All he heard was Blaine’s laugh from behind the door as he shut it behind him. 


End file.
